Insomnia
by Rivergirls Anthem
Summary: Dreams. "The first one came after he had carefully placed the flower upon her desk, as a silent token. A token of what, he didn't know yet." A series of dreams Michael has about Sara, that help him understand how he feels about her. Please review? XO!
1. Reverberating footsteps

**A/N : Okay, so this is going to be a series of one-shots about Michael having dreams about Sara when they are together or apart (because really, it's more than likely that he ever dreamt about her, right?). In these dreams, he actually comes to terms with how he feels about her. This first one is set in episodes 1x10 (the birthday-episode) and 1x11 (the Nika - episode), and ends with a bit of 1x19 (the kiss- episode).**

**Please tell me if you like it and if I should continue? It would mean the world to me!!**

**XO, as always **

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The first time he dreamt of her was after he had placed the origami rose upon her desk, silently laying down a small token for her. A token of what, he couldn't yet say. It was only that night, when she suddenly appeared in his dreams, that he knew he was getting himself into trouble.

He was walking along the sandy pathway that connected the main building of the prison with the parking lot, and the large gate that sheltered him from the vision of freedom neared him with every step he took. When he finally walked through, it felt as if a heavy burden fell from his shoulders : all of the lies, all of the scheming and all of the violence he had seen was gone within a few seconds.

His eyes curiously looked at the car parked right in front of him, swearing it hadn't been there a minute ago. It was a dark blue car, and the windows were smudged with dirt, covering the person waiting for him inside. Even the next morning, he could recall the chrystal clear sound of the door opening, and the crunching of feet on the muddy ground.

She turned around to face him, her expression blank before slipping into a smile. She motioned with her head to come to her, tilting it sideways. He went to her, his tred light and fast. It took him less than five seconds to reach her, even though the distance had at first seemed a whole lot greater.

Taking the passenger seat, he was surprised to find her reaching over and clasping his seatbelt into the buckle. It was such an act of pure and honest affection, that he felt disoriented. Part of him wanted to lean over and catch her lips in a tender kiss, but the other half was torn. Everything he had done to her would later be considered hurtful, and showing her everything that lay underneath all his actions might hurt her even more. Worse than that – she might not believe him.

"Sara?"

She raised her eyes to his and smiled. Her hands flew from the buckle to his cheek and gently carressed his light stubble. He fell into her embrace and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

-

She had seen him coming out of the conjugal room with Nika. Afterwards, she had marched up to him and spoken plainly. She had driven a stake into his heart, forcing him to fall against the fence, not being able to stand tall much longer. His dream had changed that very night.

Her car still stood in the driveway, but this time the windows were clean. He could see her from a mile away, holding her head in her hands, her body shaking with brutal sobs. He wanted to run to her, tell her that he hadn't wanted her to find out this way, and that his marriage meant nothing to him, nothing at all. It was – as he had told her – just business. He had only realized how those words had sounded to her after he had spoken them. _The conjugal room – just business._

But he couldn't. His feet wouldn't budge and he stood rooted to the earth. In a desperate attempt to move, to run…he was slammed back onto the ground by an unseen force.

It was only then that she exited the car. Her tearstained cheeks only accentuated her swollen eyes, and if he could use one word to describe her with, he would say she looked unhinged. He had ruined her life, and it had become painfully clear to him.

"You're a liar."

The words echoed through the endless space, magnifying with every turn they took. She shook her head and walked away from him, leaving the car – leaving the mere idea of taking him with her. It hit him harder than he knew was possible : she was gone.

-

The dreams had stopped after that. He thought that maybe it was a clear sign that the situation wouldn't change any more, that he had pushed her away for good. So when he kissed her, he hadn't thought she would respond to him. He hadn't thought that, even knowing what he knew now, his heart would still skip several beats and would try to convince his reason that it may still be possible – that maybe he could make this right.

"Wait for me." There wasn't a fiber in his whole being that didn't mean what he had said. He knew that she would cry, he knew that he would hurt her beyond compare. All that he was asking was that she would still clasp his seatbelt. That she would raise her hands and reach for him. And he would tell her he was sorry. That he would never lie to her again.

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_So? What did you think? Pleaaaase let me know??? Pleaaaase?_

_Xo, as always_


	2. Ache

**A/N : Hey guys, here's the next dream ... set at the very beginning of season two, when Sara's still in a coma.. I really hope you like it.**

**Please let me know? Please review? It means the world to me!**

**Xo, as always**

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_Sorry but I meant to say  
__many things along the way  
__This one's for you_

_have I told you I ache  
__for you?_

He called for her. In this dreamlike state, he just needed her to answer, to show him that there was still hope. A whisper of his name would be enough. He would know that she still remembered him, that she was safe and that a small part of her needed him the way he needed her.

It had only been a few months since he had first taped her picture to the glass, cold windows of his appartement. At that time, he had known of her kindness, he had read about her beliefs. But he hadn't known how hard it would be for him to leave her. The very idea of not being with her, not ever hearing her voice again, now tore him apart. It was surreal, but he had never ached for someone this badly. He hadn't thought it was possible.

His gaze swept around the room, taking in his surroundings. Everything about this place felt sterile and clean, devoid of any kind of emotion. He recognized it from somewhere in his past, a supressed memory that he had wiped away from his thoughts. So now he couldn't – wouldn't believe.

A person slid past him, and just looking at her confirmed his worst suspicions. The medical nametag read her name, but it wasn't…it wasn't Sara. _Sara Tancredi_, it showed, _308_. His feet had started to move, while his fingers slid over the various doorframes, over the numbers that gave them an identity.

When he reached the door that was meant for him, he paused, afraid of what he would find. Michael rested his head against the polished wood. Whatever had happened to her, in his very bones he knew that it would be all his doing.

His fingers grasped the handle and he wanted to scream at them, tell them no – desperately trying to keep them from opening the door to the possibility of… If he would find her dead, then everything he knew, everything he had wanted for so long, would mean nothing to him. He had saved his brother. He had killed her.

He only dared to open his eyes when he heard the steady beeping sound of the heart rhythm monitor. Michael's legs sagged, and he nearly fell to floor in relief. But when his eyes found her, he felt like he had been carved out with a small, sharp knive. She was alive – but she was still gone.

He walked towards her bedside and clutched her hand tightly, hoping that it would make even the slightest ammount of difference. When nothing changed, he pleaded with her to wake up. To just – look into his eyes, and it wouldn't matter if she screamed at him, it wouldn't matter if all he saw portrayed in her gaze was hatred. He just needed her to be alright.

Had this been a fairytale, he would be able to wake her by a simple kiss on her lips. Had this been a story, she would tell him that she didn't care about what he did, that they still had a chance to be together. This was a dream, and he would try it all – save her, even if it were just in this fantasy.

Michael leaned in closely, brushed her lips with his own, then traced every single feature with his fingertips. "Sara, I miss you."

She didn't open her eyes. Her lips didn't move apart. But he could hear her voice. It was a sound that he wouldn't ever forget, for as long as he would live. "Then show me, Michael."

He nodded,  
leaned down on the bed  
and drew her still form into his arms,  
holding her tightly, even as she faded away.

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_So? What did you think? Pleaaaaase tell me, I'm begging you!_

_Xo, as always_

_PS : the lyrics at the beginning are from James Carrington's "Ache"_


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